Happiness is Homemade. My blogs are about celebrating life with beautiful quotes, a few stories, a few laughs, some of my own crafts & cards and the mundane issues of everyday life. Having your comments tells me how you feel too. Drop in again.
How many women with MENOPAUSE does it take to change a light bulb?
One! ONLY ONE!!!! And do you know WHY?
Because no one else in this house knows HOW to change a light bulb! They don’t even know that the bulb is BURNED OUT!!
They would sit in the dark for THREE DAYS before they figured it out. And, once they figured it out, they wouldn’t be able to find the #&%!* light bulbs despite the fact that they’ve been in the SAME CABINET for the past 17 YEARS!
But if they did, by some miracle, actually find them, 2 DAYS LATER, the chair they dragged to stand on to change the STUPID light bulb would STILL BE IN THE SAME SPOT!!!!! AND UNDERNEATH IT WOULD BE THE WRAPPER THE FREAKING LIGHT BULBS CAME IN!!! BECAUSE NO ONE EVER PICKS UP OR CARRIES OUT THE GARBAGE!!!!
IT’S A WONDER WE HAVEN’T ALL SUFFOCATED FROM THE PILES OF GARBAGE THAT ARE A FOOT DEEP THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE HOUSE!! IT WOULD TAKE AN ARMY TO CLEAN THIS PLACE!
AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON WHO CHANGES THE TOILET PAPER ROLL !!
I’m sorry. What was the question?
Yeah that sounds exactly like me !!! and here’s another one : Anyone who has ever dressed a child will love this one!
Did you hear about the Texas teacher who was helping one of her kindergarten students put on his cowboy boots?
He asked for help and she could see why. Even with her pulling and him pushing, the little boots still didn’t want to go on. Finally, when the second boot was on, she had worked up a sweat. She almost cried when the little boy said, “Teacher, they’re on the wrong feet.”
She looked and sure enough, they were. It wasn’t any easier pulling the boots off than it was putting them on. She managed to keep her cool as together they worked to get the boots back on – this time on the right feet.
He then announced, “These aren’t my boots.”
She bit her tongue rather than get right in his face and scream, “Why didn’t you say so?” like she wanted to. And, once again she struggled to help him pull the ill-fitting boots off his little feet.
No sooner they got the boots off and he said, “They’re my brother’s boots. My Mom made me wear ’em.”
Now she didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. But, she mustered up the grace and courage she had left to wrestle the boots on his feet again.
Helping him into his coat, she asked, “Now, where are your mittens?”